Chapter 316: A Heavy Past

An electric current exploded, shattering the platform. Sensing danger, the black-clad figures rushed forward, swiftly restraining him with chains, leaving no room for resistance.

Grindelwald rose with a rumble from the rubble, his face revealing, for the first time, a flicker of emotion—anger. Yet, the expression quickly vanished as if it had never appeared. Calmly, he addressed his subordinates:

"Step back. I'll handle this."

The black-clad figures holding the taut chains withdrew like a receding tide. Hoffa, on high alert, fixed his gaze on Grindelwald. The latter casually rolled his neck, just as he had fifty years ago, and asked, "Has anyone ever told you to go back fifty years?"

Hoffa's prepared response evaporated in an instant. Stunned, he stared at Grindelwald, momentarily at a loss for words. It was true—Nicolas Flamel had hoped he would return to fifty years ago. The Nightmare God wished the same. Even though he hadn't met Dumbledore in person, he instinctively felt that if he did, Dumbledore would also want him to return to that time.

"But I don't want you to go back fifty years," Grindelwald said, looking at him with an almost sympathetic gaze. "Hoffa, even if everyone else wants you to go back, I don't think it's necessary. I believe it would be torture for you—a torment that no one should have to endure. You can stay in this world and do what you wish.

When I destroy the dream world and its source, I'll create a new world—one where all souls, including yours, can coexist in understanding and empathy."

"Huh?"

For a fleeting moment, Hoffa's resolve wavered. Grindelwald's words seemed to hold a sliver of truth. But then, he thought of Aglaea and Fatiel. His jaw tightened, and the brief sense of understanding dissolved completely.

Outnumbered and outmatched, Hoffa knew he stood no chance. His plan to retrieve Aglaea's soul had failed. He had to escape immediately.

The thought barely formed before his body expanded, magic surging around him. In an instant, he transformed into a massive six-winged thunderbird and soared into the sky. His gaze locked onto the blood-red portal on the platform, the one Grindelwald had opened, as his path out of Helheim.

"Trying to escape?"

Grindelwald tilted his head, his voice calm. "Where could you go? Every place is a prison."

He raised his hand, which swelled and morphed into a colossal, transparent appendage. With a heavy swing, the hand struck the thunderbird mid-flight. The overwhelming force sent Hoffa hurtling backward across Helheim's bridge, crashing through countless black-clad figures and skidding over a thousand meters.

Then Grindelwald's body swelled, transforming into a translucent, iridescent dragon that coiled over the bridge of Helheim's past. Its massive eyes scanned the bridge below, exuding a bone-chilling presence.

The dragon bore no difference from three years prior, except for one thing—a massive metallic cage encased its head. No matter how much Grindelwald struggled, the cage remained immovable.

"Why should prisoners fight each other?"

The void dragon's voice rumbled like thunder as it spread its wings and leaped downward.

"Damn it!"

Hoffa's mind raced. The dragon's speed was incredible, and within moments, it had snatched him mid-air, dragging him through the misty underworld in a dizzying chase.

Crackle!

A surge of electricity erupted from Hoffa's body, coursing through him and enveloping both combatants.

Amidst the crackling currents, Grindelwald grabbed Hoffa and hurled him like a meteor toward the bridge.

The mist churned, the ground shattered.

The dragon descended with deceptive lightness, pressing down on Hoffa with a force so immense that cracks spread across his body. It was a crushing spiritual weight, heavy as mountains.

"I told you, if you want to kill me, you must become like me!" Grindelwald growled, pinning Hoffa down, his enormous, twisted eyes locked onto the thunderbird's pupils.

"Dream on! I reflect on myself a hundred times a day!" Hoffa, still in thunderbird form, retorted angrily. "You probably haven't done it even once in a century!"

"What's the point? Our fate is a cycle, predetermined no matter what we do. And you, poor thing, don't even understand what a cycle truly means—ROAR!"

With that, Grindelwald unleashed a dragon's breath, scorching Hoffa's feathers until they were tattered and singed.

Zap!

With a flash of lightning, the six-winged thunderbird broke away, darting through the mist with three successive bursts of electricity, distancing itself a thousand meters into the sky.

The mist obscured Grindelwald's figure, but his voice echoed from behind. "No one escapes Death's grasp."

A shiver ran down Hoffa's spine. He turned, only to find the dragon hovering behind him. Before he could react, Grindelwald pressed him down again, leaving him completely immobilized.

Their clashing spiritual fields began to intertwine, dangerously unstable. Under such intense pressure, neither could maintain their transformed states, reverting to human form.

"Why won't you become like me!?"

Grindelwald seized Hoffa by the throat, his white hair, framed by the cage, writhing like tendrils.

"You're so vile!" Hoffa squeezed out through clenched teeth. "Always blaming others."

"It seems I have no choice but to destroy you," Grindelwald said, his grip tightening.

As Hoffa stared at Grindelwald pressing him down, he realized the latter was nearly indestructible in his soul state, especially in the Necropolis—Grindelwald's domain. It felt as though the final scene of third year was about to replay itself. Hoffa strained to lift his head. Should he summon Miller again?

It seemed he had no other option.

Hoffa thought grimly as his strength waned, making resistance increasingly difficult. He opened his mouth, preparing to call Miller's name.

But just then, Grindelwald suddenly withdrew. Like a bolt of lightning, he leapt away, perching high atop one of Helheim's bridge pillars, gazing down at Hoffa like a gargoyle. His face bore a mixture of wariness and mockery.

Hoffa was left alone on the bridge, a strange unease settling over him. He instinctively tried to back away and create distance from Grindelwald. But inexplicably, his body grew heavier and heavier.

What's happening?

Meanwhile, shadows began to emerge through the dense fog. Accompanied by the clinking of chains, they became increasingly distinct.

They weren't Grindelwald's minions but rather figures hunched under massive stone slabs, their bodies gaunt, chained, and stooped. The stones on their backs varied in size, some colossal, others slightly smaller.

Silently, they trudged forward from the distance.

The slab-bearers of Helheim—Hoffa had encountered them in his first year.

Fine snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

One landed on Hoffa. He picked it up and saw that it contained a memory—a scene of his first meeting with Albus Dumbledore at the Wool's Orphanage in London. In the memory, Dumbledore was chatting with him.

This isn't good.

A growing sense of dread filled Hoffa's heart. He glanced at Grindelwald, who stood far above, his face marked by both caution and disdain. The unease deepened.

Snowflakes continued to fall, each one embedding a memory into him. Memories of his diligent studies at Hogwarts, escorting Sylvie along the Spanish coast, being imprisoned in Azkaban, and smuggling weapons in Paris.

No!

Something was wrong with this place.

Hoffa broke into a run, but the more he ran, the heavier he felt.

The snowflakes, laden with memories, clung to him, gradually forming stone slabs on his back.

Horrified, Hoffa began to shake himself like a man struck by lightning, but the harder he shook, the more the snowflakes fell. From the orphanage to Hogwarts, from St. Mungo's to the Ministry of Magic, from Europe to Africa, and back again—every detail of his past, without exception, piled onto him.

Hoffa's movements slowed until they were agonizingly sluggish. The snowflakes compacted like concrete, building into a towering ten-meter slab on his back. Chains dangled from it, swaying ominously. Hoffa instinctively grabbed the chains to prevent the slab from falling.

He had become one of Helheim's slab-bearers.

"Can't move, can you?" Grindelwald mocked from above.

"Grindelwald…" Hoffa panted under the weight of the colossal slab, his steps faltering and labored.

Grindelwald's face showed a touch of admiration. "Helheim—the Bridge of the Past. Everyone who sets foot here becomes ensnared by their memories. The richer and more colorful your life, the heavier your burden."

He transformed back into a massive dragon, perching high in the air, watching Hoffa with amusement.

"Abandon the slab," he suggested. "Let it go, and you'll catch up to me. Can you do that?"

Looking at the faceless slab-bearers shuffling by, Hoffa finally understood the meaning of this bridge—Helheim: the Bridge of the Past.

In his first year, he had seen these slab-bearers and thought them pitiable, but he hadn't understood them. Back then, he had no past memories weighing him down—his life had been a blank slate, free to be written upon.

Now, however, his past—the education he'd received, the stories he'd lived—were mountains pressing on his shoulders. They were his identity, his life. He couldn't abandon them.

"Not… a chance," Hoffa said, trembling under the enormous slab.

"Your past will crush you," Grindelwald said. "Why not learn from me? Kill the past, embrace a new life."

"That's… none of your… business," Hoffa retorted, glaring at Grindelwald above. "I'll never listen to… another word… you say. Every word… out of your mouth… is… pure… bullshit."

"Pure bullshit?" Grindelwald chuckled. "That's a new one."

The Void Dragon raised its head, its empty, icy eyes scanning the pale blue sky. "I once had high hopes for you. Now, I'm only disappointed."

He spread his massive wings, blotting out the sky.

"I don't need to act. Those who cannot let go of the past will find their end just ahead. Keep walking. Death will weigh your soul."

With that, he flapped his wings and soared into the clouds, leaving the Bridge of the Past behind. Meanwhile, countless eye-shaped portals appeared, opening around his black-robed followers. One by one, they stepped through, exiting the Necropolis and returning to the real world.

(End of Chapter)

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